


Beyond the Void

by orphan_account



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piero finds himself in a startling situation. It seems that The Outsider, the being he's come to know from a distance with a strained, one-sided relationship, needs his help. The mysterious man has been locked out of the Void by an as of yet unknown power, and he needs the humans' help and intellect to get him back before he's lost forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Oil Incident

**Author's Note:**

> This is... ahaha... mostly just playing around with headcanons and lore and other things....... enjoy!

Piero was watching him from afar, slightly perturbed. His hands were clasped around an empty whale oil tank’s nozzle. His knuckles ran white with tension as the Outsider paced his workshop.

Sokolov had not returned from his outing, so he was completely unaware of their new guest. Their guest who, through some unforseen circumstance, was now locked out of his own realm. He came to Piero first in his sleep, then on his doorstep the very next morning. He had been having strange dreams in the weeks leading up to the Outsider’s appearance. Dreams involving faceless black creatures with odd musical abilities. He dreamt of the Void, but it was black as the eyes of the Outsider himself. It was wholly unnatural and Piero found himself waking in cold sweats. They had had a few conversations since, usually about Piero’s work and the gadgets littered around the shop. For a creature trying to get home, he took an awfully keen interest in mechanics. Piero felt there was a distinct lack of urgency in the Outsider’s actions, but then again he wasn’t sure that it was possible for the man to be urgent in the first place. He had never given off that sort of air, never once had he seen him panic or out of his element. Piero had almost come to worship him as a sort of deity, but shelved that idea after some thought. Just because the man was different and held more knowledge than most of the human race didn’t necessarily make him a God. He’d tried to explain this premise to Sokolov with little success.

Piero snapped himself out of his silent reverie.

“Say, Outsider…”

He was staring intently at the whale oil dispenser with a partially disgusted, partially amused look on his face. “Hmm?”

“If… if we’re going to help you, I’m going to be forced to introduce you to my colleague. There isn’t much we don’t do together nowadays, but… I know how you feel about him-“

“Do you?” He shifted his gaze to Piero, still retaining the bemusing expression he wore while regarding the whale oil (he noticed with a start that the Outsider's eyes were a deep, muddy brown instead of the usual empty black).

Piero faltered, and almost immediately he felt his face flush. “I…” Of course he didn’t, all he knew of the Outsider’s non-existant relationship with Sokolov was just that - that it didn’t exist. Who was he to decide whether or not it was because the man wasn’t fond of him?

The Outsider smiled. “Well in any case you’re more or less correct. I do not dislike him, but I’m not interested in him. He’s too simple. Too predictable.” He was studying the whale oil machine yet again. “A mean, perverted old mad scientist. If I had a coin for every one of them I’ve seen throughout the years-“

Piero gasped. “Wait DON’T-” A hiss and a pop, and the Outsider was covered face to boot in incandescent whale oil. He leaped back with a start, the air crackling in the wake of his shock. Piero bit back the mighty string of curses dancing on his tongue and raced over to the mess. “Don’t move don’t breathe do NOT lick your lips and keep your eyes closed…” He grabbed a raggedy towel and ran for the washroom, soaking the thing in the washtub. He heard the strange rumbling sound of muffled laughter and shook his head. One of the few things he’d learned fast was that the Outsider’s emotions had a distinct effect on his surroundings, and more often than not it didn’t end well. He’d been the victim of the man’s playfulness on a few occasions, ending up on the receiving end of some kind of misplaced but harmless spell. He couldn’t help but be reminded of a child; the Outsider had endless curiosity and nothing seemed to thrill him more than discovering the secrets of the human mind. Forcing a reaction out of someone seemed to be what he lived for. It would have been endearing if he hadn’t spent so much time utterly terrified for his safety.

Piero grabbed the towel and threaded his way through the workroom back to the Outsider. His hands were splayed out in front of him as though he were trying to protect himself from some unseen enemy, and his shoulders shrugged in laughter. For a being of immense power, he looked absolutely ridiculous. As if on cue, the front door to the shop blasted open and Sokolov entered with a flourish. Piero threw the rag over the Outsider’s head and cast a weary glance over his shoulder. “Are you inebriated again?” Hands were grabbing at his arm and shirt but he paid them no mind. 

“Merely drunk off merriment, my good friend!” He wobbled on his feet and Piero let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Right, well, it would suit you well to sober up quickly, we have a guest. And watch out for-” A squick and a thud and he knew he was too late.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OIL!”

“Shut up you old fool and come help me.” He was rubbing at the Outsider’s face vigorously, all polite pretenses thrown out the window. He wondered briefly if there would be any salvageable oil left.

“WHO IS THIS FOOL!” Piero snatched another towel from Sokolov, who had apparently graciously fetched him another. He threw the one he was using to the ground, giving the Outsider no time to protest as he set to work on his neck.

“I’m sorry, we have to get this off your skin as quickly as possible, you’ll thank me for it later.”

“PIERO-“

“Shut UP you incomprehensible vagabond. Stop struggling, you’re only going to make this more difficult.” He searched the Outsider’s face for any signs of budding anger, but his features, the ones not streaked with oil residue, were marked merely with faint discomfort. “Sokolov, get me a bucket of water please.”

“Why should I!”

The Outsider scowled. “I’ll be even less pleased with you than I usually am. If it’s not too much trouble, I’m starting to itch.” He stared pointedly in Sokolov’s direction. He seemed to get a bit uncomfortable but still wasn’t at the point of total comprehension. He fetched the bucket regardless, and the Outsider grabbed the thing and dumped it unceremoniously over his head. Sokolov threw up his hands in defeat and Piero gave a little chuckle. 

“Well it was still used for it’s intended purpose, no harm, no foul.” In an instant the man was dry, and so was the floor. Piero’s shock was mild, and he wound up wondering why he didn’t just make the stuff disappear in the first place.

“Too much effort. I’d probably wind up missing a limb. I’m a bit… weak, in my current state.”

“What?”

“The look you just gave me. It was questioning.”

“I forgot how good you are at this.”

The Outsider laughed. “At humanity? Have you forgotten my singular hobby?”

Piero folded his arms as a smile tugged on the corners of his lips. “I see your point.” As it were, he was very endeared to this man, however much trouble his presence had been. It was a pleasant conclusion to reach, as he had a feeling he would be staying a while. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sokolov studying them. He was waiting for the moment when it would click, and he could tell the Outsider was as well. He was looking between the two of them, his beady eyes narrow under bushy brows.

“I trust this gentleman was just leaving.”

“Actually, that’s what I need to talk to you about.” Piero grasped Sokolov’s arm and led him toward the courtyard. As they were leaving, the Outsider flashed Sokolov a toothy, hellish grin. In combination with the strange shadows cast across his face, he looked positively demonic for an instant, and then it was gone. Piero gave an involuntary shudder as they made their way outside. “That man-“

“There is something DREADFULLY wrong with him. Has he the plague? Have we not fixed him yet?”

Piero shook his head. “It’s not that, but he is very different. I need you to not lose yourself when I tell you what we’re dealing with here.”

“Oh please, it can’t be anything I’M not used to.” Piero barely had time to scowl before the Outsider appeared at his side.

“Why do you have to be out here to have this conversation? Surely if you’ve something to say about me, it can be done in my company.” He looked angry, but Piero knew it was feigned.

“I think it may be time to lay out some ground rules.” He clasped his hands together. “That,” he snapped, pointing at the Outsider, “has got to stop. I don’t like the idea of someone being able to pop in on any one of my conv-“

“Are you really going to stop me.” It wasn’t a question and that scared Piero. The Outsider cocked his head. “I’ve always respected your privacy, I have no reason to do so otherwise.” 

“You… you… you…” Sokolov was on the ground pointing up.

“Funny, I never knew you had a stutter.”

In an almost comedic attempt to stand, Sokolov tripped over his own feet and ended up falling face forward into the Outsider’s knees. In a momentary fit of secondhand embarrassment Piero grabbed the man by the jacket and yanked him to his feet.

“You’re grovelling,” he hissed through his teeth.

Sokolov completely ignored him. “I… I have so many questions!” He clasped the Outsider’s hand in his own. “Why… you…” He paused, and for the first time in Piero’s life he realized the man was speechless.

The Outsider gently pulled his hand away. “Soon. Not now, not here. We have business to attend to, and I need your help.”

“I would be honored.”

Piero rolled his eyes. “Corvo and the Empress wait for us at the pub. Sokolov, collect yourself and join us when you are ready.” 

The Outsider’s face lit up. “Corvo! There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. I wonder what he’s up to…” He turned on his heel and started for the pub, arms crossed, mumbling under his breath.

Sokolov watched him go with curious eyes. “He’s nothing like I expected.”

“I’ll admit, he’s a little more vocal than what I’m used to. I think being out of the Void has messed him up some.” Piero paused. “I wonder what will happen if he stays here for too long.”

Sokolov shrugged. “The obvious, I expect. He’ll lose his power and with no tether to the Void, magic as we know it will cease to exist.” They stood there in an abject silence for what seemed like an eternity, the weight of what they were about to undertake finally sinking in. Sokolov broke the silence with a sigh. “Well, I’ve certainly sobered up.” He clapped Piero on the shoulder.

“Let’s go, my friend. The worst we can do is fail.”


	2. The Bolt Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider is sent a message, and he's not happy. Emily is less than happy with his presence, and Cecelia expresses her concern to her newlywed husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if these seem a little disjointed, I've been writing them in between other things... Also as far as Piero and Cecelia go... It's just a personal opinion that they work together.

“Is he a God?”

The Empress leaned forward on the table, propped up on her elbows and staring Piero intently in the eyes.

Her curiosity knew no bounds and grew ever more as she aged. She had a habit of coming to Piero when she needed answers about the bigger questions life had to offer her. Corvo may have been her advisor, but Piero always managed to get the task of telling her how the world worked. He thought it odd, seeing as how Corvo was essentially her father figure. He didn’t mind, though. A young mind with a healthy appetite for knowledge was somewhat rare nowadays, and he would have liked to have someone to pass on his experiments and research. He was getting older, and age wasn’t doing him any favors. He still hadn’t borne a child, and following the bitter news that Cecelia was unable to have children the possibility had nearly dropped off save for a miracle.

He folded his hands in front of him, examining the lines in his fingers, trying to find a good way to explain his thoughts. She waited patiently, saying nothing as the tittering of patrons in the background threaded its way through their quiet little booth. Drumming his fingers on the table, he met her gaze again.

“It’s not a definitive answer, but… I have decided, on my own time, that to call him a God would be incorrect. In fact, it may even be considered insulting. The Outsider is not a creator. He is a giver. He does more for us than any so-called “God”, even if his intentions are murky at best.” He became keenly aware that Emily’s eyes were flicking to a fixed point above his shoulder, but he kept going. “It’s difficult to process when you… stop, and look around you and realize that most of our lives lately have been centered around him, and you put him on a pedestal. Which, don’t get me wrong, his existence is essential-“

“He killed my mother.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He killed my mother.” Her face was like marble, set perfect and still, eyes gleaming like beacons with a cold, bright anger. She kept her eyes on him. Piero felt the presence at his shoulder, but never once did she look its way.

He faltered, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t have to.

“You realize none of this would have been possible without your mother’s death. Her passing facilitated the turning of cogs in a great wheel.” The low drawl slipped like mercury through Piero’s ears, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Is this a game to you? Is this what you do, toy with people’s lives, with their emotions?!” Her voice rose just under a shout, her fists clenched on the table. Even still, she never took her eyes off of Piero. Tears were beginning to well up. Piero opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

“I gave Daud an opportunity. What he chose to do with it was beyond my control, as is with all of my marks.”

“Maybe you should start picking better people!” She plunged her hand down the neck of her blouse and tugged out a chain. Tearing it off her neck, she slammed it on the table and left her seat, storming out of the pub without another word. The Outsider took her seat almost immediately.

Piero watched him for a moment. “Do you get that often?” He was playing with the necklace, face marked with some indeterminate expression.

“Ah, well…” He continued fiddling. The air around him was buzzing. Piero waited. He had grown accustomed to waiting.

When it looked like he wasn’t about to speak, he dared to broach conversation. “Has Corvo found you well?”

“Oh yes, we met in a tender embrace.” Piero balked, knowing full well that any physical interaction with Corvo was met with disdain when it was with anyone but Emily. The scene as it played out in his mind was nothing short of hilarious, and Piero gave a little snort of amusement. The ends of the Outsider’s lips curled up and he pocketed the necklace. “It was just as amusing as you’re imagining. He didn’t take to kindly to my picking him up, either.” Piero laughed out loud this time, and the Outsider’s slight grin blossomed into a smile. “He missed me dearly, I’m sure.” Folding his arms and leaning back, he sighed. “I had imagined Emily was beyond spite by now. It seems I was wrong.” He plucked at a loose string on his sleeve, looking thoughtful. “She’s still too young to understand, and emotion has clouded her judgement. Understandable. She’s most likely been unable to grieve, betwe-” Mid-sentence his arms flew up and in one inhuman motion he leaped onto the table, knocking over Piero’s drink and drawing a cry from Cecelia, who was on her way over with a tray. He let loose a low, gutteral noise and disappeared in a shroud.

In the wall behind him and on the seat where he previously sat lay a grand total of six bolts, their tips shimmering with some incandescent liquid. Piero gasped and sunk low in the booth, looking around anxiously, then making the unconscious decision to grab Cecelia and pull her in with him. “Did you see anything?!”

“No, did you?” Piero shook his head.

“They’re trying to catch me off guard.” The Outsider was pulling the bolts out of the seat, examining them with a look of utter contempt. “They think they can kill me. HA.” On the last word the pub rumbled. “I’ve been tapped into the energies of the universe far, far longer than their ancestry has even dared to smear this forsaken planet with their seed, it’s going to take much more than the element of surprise and a few oiled bolts to get rid of me.” As he was speaking his visage contorted into a horrific shell of its former self. It seemed the angrier he grew, the less human he appeared. His lips were pulled too far back from his teeth, his eyes too dark, his laugh lines too deep. The air around him was visibly distorted, the wood lining the booth’s seats melding into the pub backdrop, tangling with the glass panes and the coat rack. Piero felt a heavy pressure bearing down upon him, as though he were being dragged deeper and deeper under the sea. He instinctively clutched Cecelia closer, burying his face in her hair.

All at once the pressure lifted, and Piero looked up to see the Outsider clutching his face in his hands. He sighed, pulled away and started examining the bolt. His face was yet again that of a young man, but Piero didn’t move.

“You are in no danger. They will not come for you.”

Piero shook his head. “Can you tell us what’s going on now, please? I am not and never was a beggar of any sort, but I’m not above it for the sake of clarity.”

“I told Corvo I would wait. He had some official business to attend to,” he physically waved the thought away, annoyance written on his face like lines from an old wives’ tale. His recent bout of expressiveness caught Piero off guard, and he wondered faintly if waiting may have been the best solution after all.

It seemed that the Outsider had become a ticking time bomb, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, he was the only one that had realized it. Sokolov was caught up in his grovelling, Corvo was always, always busy, and most everyone else around were too afraid of him to get within ten meters of his existence. He was growing ever unstable and Piero feared that if they didn’t get him back to the Void soon, disaster loomed on the horizon.

“Of a catastrophic nature, surely. I have never been away from the Void this long.”

Piero sighed. “I will never get used to that.” He hoisted himself and a shaken Cecelia up into the seat, arms still wrapped possessively around her. “But,” he began, slowly, carefully, “I am right, aren’t I.”

The Outsider shrugged. “There’s no way of confidently knowing. We’re broaching unknown territory. I may take to rest, if that’s alright with you. I don’t expect Corvo back until sundown.” He didn’t wait for an answer and in an instant he was gone.

Cecelia buried her face in Piero’s chest. “This can’t go on for much longer.” She looked up at him, eyes desperate and pleading. “I don’t like him here. I don’t want him here. He’s bringing nothing but trouble and he’s making me and everyone else uneasy. I know you and Corvo are very familiar with him by now but I…”

Piero started massaging her neck. “I know, my love. I know.” He glanced at the bolts in the wall. “Please just… a little longer. He will protect us, Cecelia. I promise, no harm will fall to you, or the pub, or anyone else as long as he’s around.”

“How can you be so sure when whoever is doing this is trying to kill him?! Maybe… maybe he’s just trying to buy himself some time?” She was sitting up straight now, hands gripping his arms like vices, fear edging into her every syllable.

“He wouldn’t.” Even as he spoke the words, Piero himself didn’t know that he fully believed them.


End file.
